THE DARK SHORES
Welcome to the world of
Elrohen!
My second fantasy novel is currently in production. It is the sequel to
A Wizard's Tears.
Excerpt from Chapter 1 - "In The Shadows of the Monument":
The water lapped at his bare feet, gently trickling into the rock pools from the sea to the north.
Wooden spear in hand, the muscular man clambered over the boulder strewn beach, looking down intently for his prize. Softly, without sound, Jolner watched, and waited. Patience was the key to this hunt. Soon he would find a crab, and then he would strike.
It varied, at times, on the amount of crabs he would see. It was not uncommon for him to come to this beach and find a dozen, all of which would end their lives on the tip of his spear. Today, there appeared to be none, which was unusual. Sometimes the ebb and flow of the tide caused the numbers to be different, but this morning, with the tide in and lapping at his feet, he expected to see a lot more. He was a tall man, over six feet, and his body was blacker than the dark sky of dawn. His black hair was tied behind his head in a knot, making him look bald. His body was the embodiment of physical prowess, muscular and fit, with not an ounce of fat on him. He wore only a ragged grey loincloth, the heat in this place did not warrant him to wear anything else.
Pausing momentarily in his task, Jolner glanced across the sea to the horizon. There, where the sky met the sea, he could see the monument, a great black, obsidian obelisk, standing tall and proud on the small jaggy rock that supported it. He did not know its height, but estimated it at roughly thirty feet tall, about five grown men standing on top of each other. It was slender, only two or three feet across, and was shaped like a curved snake, coiling upward like a number two. The top of the structure formed a circle with its main base, and curled behind the main base into a sharp point. Often, the midday sun would shine through this circle, bathing the beach he stood on in a shimmering glow. At this time, the monument took on a spiritual appearance, with the pale light of dawn seeming to slide off its smooth surface. Jolner did not know who built the structure, or why, but whenever he looked at the thing it filled him with dread. Today was no exception.
Turning his gaze back to the rock pools, Jolner finally caught sight of a crab, not even moving, just sitting in the shallow water, as if it were asleep. All too easily he stabbed down with his spear, and struck the crab right in the centre. About time, he thought. He had been out here for a good hour, with no reward. This had to be his worst hunt on the beach yet. At least, now, he would have his breakfast, but poor old Grem would not get his quota for his market stall today. Times were hard, here on the island. Years ago, when he had been younger, there had been a plentiful supply of fish and crab meat. Many animals stalked the island around the cliff tops: birds, rabbits, even deer. Yet now there were less and less, and Jolner, not for the first time, wondered why. Sure, Farmer Grem had livestock, and bred deer and birds. Yet each year there seemed to be more of them dying, less and less of them having babies. Something was at work, and it was not natural. Shaking off his disturbing thoughts, Jolner took his prize and headed inland slightly, where the ground was sand and not rocks. Here, he would build a fire, and cook his crab. He was hungry, and his hour exertions on the beach had not helped his stomach.
The fire spluttered into life, and soon the smell of burning crab hung in the air, a smell that made Jolner suddenly ravenous. It would last him the day, this meagre meal, for the crab was not large, by any means, and the food in the village was becoming more and more scarce. As he ate, Jolner worried for the island and the villagers, his friends. They simply could not go on as they were. The lack of food was forcing people from their homes, to journey south, into more remote parts of the island, to allay their hunger and thirst. Worse still, some were using the only port in the island to wait for ships from the continents to the east, and were leaving the island in droves. It was such a shame for the islanders. Most had lived here all their days, and to be ousted and moved purely for survival was tough for them to bear. Jolner wished he knew what was happening to the island, why the food and crops were suddenly so hard to grow and nurture. It was as if the very soil itself were dying, it’s ground dry and without the nutrients required for sustaining life. Jolner could not understand why the ground was becoming increasingly more poisonous. It just did not make any sense. The sun shone as it always did. The tides, they came to and for like they always did. Nothing seemed to change here, on the island.
His musings were suddenly halted, forcibly. A loud pitched shrieking erupted from nowhere, deafening to his ears, like a thousand birds had taken residence in his brain and were squawking in his head. Dropping his crab meat, Jolner stood, clutching his ears with his hands. He could see light bursting from atop the monument, out there in the sea: a dramatic, yellow light that caressed the whole sky with its illumination. Jolner looked on in terror. He could make out the monument so clearly now, the strange black structure glimmering with the harsh light atop of it. The light was shaped in a circle, and seemed to grow and coalesce around the monument, making the whole thing blur and shimmer.
Jolner could look no longer. With the sound piercing his mind and hurting his head, he fled, running as fast as his legs could carry him away from the beach, away from the light and the monument. His feet thumped hard on the sand, his breath caught in his lungs as he rushed from the scene. Soon, he was away from the coast and heading inland, back towards the village. He slowed then. The noise in his ears had gone, as quickly as it had arrived. Here, in the rocky path between the hills that marked the edge of the village boundary, there was quiet. The pale light of the sun was just coming into view, the start of the morning proper. He looked at the sun and relaxed as its warmth shone over his body.
He did not know what had just happened. He had never seen that light, or heard the screams in his head. The event had disturbed him greatly. He did not tarry, but walked quickly and purposefully back towards home. He would talk to Farmer Grem, his master and friend. Perhaps old Grem would know what the light in the sea meant, and what the sounds in his ears meant.
Momentarily, Jolner had completely forgotten about his lack of food during his early morning hunt, or the plight of the island.
Excerpt from Chapter 3 - "The Long Beach":
"The sun seeped out heat, basking the island of Mykemu in fierce rays of fire.
Vergail could feel the sweat oozing from her body. Already her red garments were soaked through, and her long hair felt hot and stuck to her skin. She thought momentarily of having some of the water that Jube had provided for her, but she dismissed the idea. She would need to save it, especially as she was travelling into the wild. She would find some shade, she decided, and rest a while.
Before long the track she was on disappeared, ending at the top of a hillock. Looking from here, Vergail could see a vast beach spread out in front of her, for as far as her eyes could see. It was a beautiful sight. The sea shone and glistened in a sapphire blue, the roar of the waves hitting the beach and frothing up into white shimmers that danced all the way along the beach. The sand was a brilliant white, and looked untouched by any footprints. Vergail stood, completely alone, yet completely in tune with the feast of nature around her.
This is what she had come here for.
Carefully, taking care not to fall, Vergail made her way down the uneven ground towards the beach. She had to feel the sand between her toes; feel the spray of the sea on her lips.
Her feet touched the white sand, the heat from it aching and sensual on her skin. She dared not stand solitary for too long, lest the heat scalded her bare feet. Quickly and with purpose, the priestess walked over to the sea, the sand here damp and brown from the tide.
Here she stopped, and looked out to sea, smiling at the gentle breeze which caressed her face lovingly. The sea was a deep turquoise, a glorious colour contrasting with the dark blue of the sky. The sounds of the waves were harmonious to her ears: the roar and rushes a calming, soothing influence. Playfully, Vergail undid her grey pouch from her waist, leaving it on the sand. Vergail walked out slightly into the shallow parts of the water, the water teasing and lapping at her feet, making her giggle in delight. The water felt warm, too, but was cool enough to energise her whole body.
The priestess inched further outward, letting the water up to her waist, luxuriating in the pleasurable sensation of the water around her body, revitalising. With a contented sigh, she closed her eyes, leaning backward to enjoy the water all around her. The rush of the spray and the sound of the sea worked wonders on her. After such a long journey to get here, this was bliss. It only took a few moments, with her eyes closed thus, to totally relax and calm her. Vergail stood, then, droplets of water cascading down around her and dribbling from her long, wet hair.
It was then, that she saw something glimmering in the sunlight, in the white sands of the beach.
Curious, Vergail walked out of the sea, parting her hair slightly from her face as it stuck to her skin. Bending down, she scooped up the object. How had she not seen this before? In her hand lay a crystal, a deep purple, and the contours of it sparkled and glinted in the ever rising sun. It was beautiful, she thought, and the size of her long finger, and twice as wide.
She wondered what could have made such a thing of marvel, here, in the wilderness of the beach. It did not seem to belong here, and there were certainly no other such crystals dotted about on the beach, as far as she could see. The priestess shrugged, and placed the crystal in her grey pouch that she had left on the beach. Once more attaching the pouch to her waist using the strap, Vergail started to walk along the beach.
After a while, she noticed the ground getting rockier to the right of the sands she walked on, inland. The landscape changed quite suddenly, here, it seemed. Continuing on, Vergail discovered a piece of rock that had eroded off the side of the growing cliff to her right, embedded into the white sand. The sea rushed and roared up to it, gently licking its base before ebbing away in a loud hiss of foam.
As the priestess got closer, she could make out scratches on the surface of the rock: symbols, to her trained eyes. Obviously someone had been here before, and drawn on this rock. She had no idea what the symbols meant. One looked like the shape of an eye, but instead of a circular pupil in the middle there was a diamond shape in its stead. To the right of this were several wavy lines, which possibly meant the sea. The symbols looked like they were made by a child.
So, already there was mystery here, on this ancient beach, she thought happily. She had a feeling this island was going to intrigue and delight her far more than she realised. Something in her liked that idea. The island felt oddly eccentric, which suited her completely. After all she had been through, this place felt more at home to her than any other.
Vergail made camp at the foot of this rock, taking care to stay a little distance from the sea. She sat, and nibbled on her bread, and took a sip of her water. Closing her eyes once more, she let the sun soak her in its rays. She could sleep, here, she thought. Smiling, she dismissed the idea in her mind. She would need to take shelter, soon, or she would burn in this heat. Although cooler by the sea, the sun was fierce.
A sudden noise disturbed her thinking.
Startled, Vergail looked up at the sky. Was that a rumble of thunder? The noise came again, louder this time.
Sure enough, as she stared up at the sky, the blue, empty sky with the hot sun, she could make out wisps of white, appearing out of thin air, coalescing together by an unknown force, creating clouds. Her eyes widened at this phenomenon. She had never seen anything like it!
As she watched, the clouds formed, and went from white to grey, to black. A sudden chill in the air gave her goose bumps, and a harsh wind whipped around her, coming out of nowhere. The sunlight became blotted out of the sky, and the sound of thunder emanated across the heavens.
Vergail stood sharply, and began heading inland. She would need to find shelter, and quickly!
She had not walked more than three footsteps when a harsh, tearing sound of impending doom hit her ears as forcibly as if something had struck her. Aghast, Vergail turned towards the sea, where the noise came from. She could see the waves bubbling and frothing, as if something from beneath disturbed their equilibrium. Suddenly, shooting upward, out from the very sea itself came a bolt of lightning, piercing the sky with its brightness, electrifying the clouds with a harsh, ripping sound of pure energy.
The priestess watched in amazement and fear as more bolts shot up from the surging waters, forked and threatening the whole sky with their potency. The clouds above swirled and heaved, thunder boiling and rumbling around her ears.
As the rain started, a huge, torrent of water weeping from the sky, she could stand and watch no more. Turning, Vergail ran from the beach, her heart in her mouth, heading inland."